


don't be scared, my friend (death is a beginning, not an end)

by chemicalpixie



Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 18:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalpixie/pseuds/chemicalpixie
Summary: “there were so many deaths here. so many violent. so many things unfinished. she is unfinished. if (not if, she reminds herself. when. it is no longer a matter of ifs, cannot be when she lies here, bleeding, and no one is coming. no one has come. no one will. she will die here,unfinished) she dies, she might become a ghost. it's ironic, almost, she thinks, that she is the super high school level paranormal investigator. now she will become the paranormal herself.”or; aiko umesawa's last moments.





	don't be scared, my friend (death is a beginning, not an end)

**Author's Note:**

> i love the student council so much hi hello. listen i've had the headcanon that aiko is the shsl paranormal investigator for a while and then i had this idea and it was angsty so i had to write it.  
> also, yes, aiko and tomohiko were together, and he did kill her, but it was a split second choice where he thought that him killing her (and his killing her _quickly_ would save her a lot of suffering. he was going to finish her off, but we all know what happened to prevent that. so). i felt i should clear that up now, since there wasn't a natural place in the fic to insert his motivations.  
>  the title comes from nicole dollanganger's don't be scared.

the floor is cold. the air around aiko is colder. her stomach feels as though it is burning with a thousand irons, and she doesn't look at it. she can't. it has been ages since she's heard any other noise other than the harsh noise of her own breathing. the screams of her fellow council members have long since died out, and the last echoing footsteps of the man with the long hair faded away long ago. she'd closed her eyes when asukasei had fallen (no. not fallen. been pushed. been thrown. been thrown, by the man with the long hair.) onto the chainsaw, and then she thought for sure she'd given herself away, that the long haired boy would see her alive, had seen her close her eyes, and would kill her (would throw her on the chainsaw. would rip her limbs off one by one. he would kill her _he would he would he would_ ) but he hadn't. he hadn't noticed or hadn't seen her. she'd watched him walk away, and waited for the air around her to cool before retrieving the pendulum she kept in her pocket (the pocket of her jacket is warm and damp. she doesn't want to think about why. she doesn't want to think about who had done it. if she doesn't think about it, it isn't there). she leans her elbow on her side, careful to keep it higher than the wound. the wound feels almost like a second heart, throbbing with an insatiable pain. she feels the cool metal of the pendulum chain in her fist, familiar like an old friend. “clockwise for yes, counterclockwise for no,” she whispers, still irrationally afraid she might be found. there were so many deaths here. so many violent. so many things unfinished. she is unfinished. if (not if, she reminds herself. when. it is no longer a matter of ifs, cannot be when she lies here, bleeding, and no one is coming. no one has come. no one will. she will die here, _unfinished_ ) she dies, she might become a ghost. it's ironic, almost, she thinks, that she is the super high school level paranormal investigator. now she will become the paranormal herself.

“are there any spirits here?” she whispers. the pendulum doesn't move, for a moment, and then it does, spinning frantically clockwise.

aiko takes a deep breath; waits for the pendulum to stop spinning. once it settles, she takes another breath, fear clenching her heart. “did i know you when you lived?” the pendulum doesn't move at first, and fear spikes in her heart. she has made a mistake. they have all left her. it spins, slowly, clockwise, and she smiles, and the slightest motion of smiling makes her stomach pulse more, and she can almost feel it, the two rhythms. the rhythm of her heart and the pulse that beats in her stomach. she moans quietly.

“were you on the student council?” she asks. she needs to be sure it is one of them. she does not know what she will do if it is. if it's him. she does not know what she will do if it isn't. it's a paradox, she muses. the pendulum swings clockwise, and she inhales sharply.

“which one of you is it?” she asks, even though she knows the pendulum cannot possibly answer this. her voice is higher than normal. she is afraid, she muses, and she thinks it is funny she is more afraid of this than she was when she was stabbed. and when she was being shot at. “kiriko, are you there?” the pendulum swings slowly counterclockwise. “oh, kiriko,” she breathes, _knowing_. kiriko is dead. kiriko is a ghost. she was a part of something. she is unfinished, a coat left out to dry and never collected, a bike left in the woods to rust. aiko's hand shakes as she asks again. “are you the only one there?” she asks, and waits. the pendulum swings counterclockwise. a no.

“are you all there?” she asks, and it swings counterclockwise. a no. she was afraid of this, she realizes, afraid of him not being there all along. she is afraid of this, she realizes, a quick memory flashing in her mind of her as a child, playing with an ouija board in the dark as she waited for her father to come home and pay the electricity bills. this is almost the same, she thinks, waiting in the dark for someone to be there.

“is tomohiko there?” she asks, and holds her breath and waits. the pendulum seems almost hesitant, but it swings clockwise eventually.

“ _why_ ,” she whispers, half a spoken word and half a breath. “why would he do this to me.” it is not a question, and the pendulum does not take it as such. it is rage. it is fury, and it is sadness. “does he regret it?” she asks, and the pendulum is slow even as her hand shakes.

it swings clockwise, and she hears almost, a breath of a whisper in her ear, “i'm sorry, my rabbit.” it is his voice. it is always his voice that haunts her. she chuckles, and then regrets it, the pain in her stomach doubling at her movement. it's funny, she knows, that they are ghosts haunting the dying. what is the _point_.

“why are you here?” she asks, barely able to hold her hand up any longer. “why have you stayed?” she knows the pendulum cannot answer that, and sighs. “do you want vengeance?” she asks, and knows that if they do, they will have to tear each other apart. ghosts cannot haunt ghosts. (she does not think of the alternative. that someone killed them all. someone killed them all and is coming for her. _they are coming for her they are coming for her they are coming_ ). the pendulum swings clockwise. no, they do not want vengeance. “do you have a message to pass on?” the pendulum swings counterclockwise again, and she frowns, biting her lip. “are you waiting?” the pendulum swings clockwise, frantically, and the chain slips from her hand, the stone shattering on the floor into a thousand pale pink shards. tears burn her eyes. “what are you waiting for?” she whispers, though she knows it is in vain. “what are you waiting for?”

and there it is, the soft brush of fingers on her cheek that feels almost like tsubasa's, tucking aiko's stray hair behind her ear like she used to as a brush of cool air rushes past her cheek, carrying one ghostly word (it is in his voice. it is always in his voice. whoever else could it be. he is the one who cared for her most). “you.” she smiles, hot tears falling down her face. she wants to wipe them away, but she cannot, but she still can feel someone wiping them away. it is the brush of kotomi's rough hands that she feels wiping her tears away instead. the pain is worse than ever, but she still smiles. she knows, now, and she is not afraid. she is not afraid to die. how can she be, when they are waiting for her? _they are waiting for her they are waiting for her they are waiting for her they are waiting_ -


End file.
